


Blake: A Lament, in the style of William McGonagall, Poet and Tragedian (meta)

by HermitLibrary_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitLibrary_Archivist/pseuds/HermitLibrary_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By Chris Blenkarn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blake: A Lament, in the style of William McGonagall, Poet and Tragedian (meta)

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).

'Twas in the Autumn of the year in the fourth series of Blake's Seven  
The crew of the Scorpio did resolve to leave their base at Xenon  
To run away with dignity, bound for Gauda Prime  
To find Roj Blake, whom they had not seen for a very long time.

O hideous Gauda Prime! Thy dreaded name fills all men with fear and dread  
For it is a place where vile bounty hunters kill true rebels dead.  
Across the vast and raging galaxy the ship fled on and on   
The crew's hearts still were true and stalwart, and not at all woebegone.

 

* * *

Blake sat on the forest greensward, the trees arched high o'erhead  
His hair was gray, his eye was wild, his heart grown hard, 'tis said.  
Upon a fire the grim-faced leader was roasting animals sundry  
When a rebel bold called Arlen assayed him, for she was very hungry.

Three bounty hunters came through the trees, Arlen for to slaughter  
She killed two, but the third shot her in the leg when he fought her.  
As she lay desp'rate wounded, Blake slew the man in the fray,   
Then said she was his prisoner, which news did her sore dismay.

 

* * *

As Scorpio drew near Gauda Prime, gunships with fell intent  
Opened fire upon the doughty ship, her engines they did rend  
The crew teleported to the ground, save for brave Del Tarrant  
Who tried his best to land the ship, his action was most valiant.

Kerr Avon was the last to leave when Tarrant cried "avaunt!"  
The gallant pilot stayed at his post as his leader did teleport.  
Then forth with a sad heart and a swift pace, but heart ne'er craven  
Under the moon's beautiful silvery light walked on the black-clad Avon. 

 

* * *

Vila, Dayna, and Soolin marched through the forest wild, growing weary and footsore  
They found a dwelling and shelter took, not wanting to walk any more.  
Vile bounty hunters tried to capture them, they Vila did sore affright  
Until the fierce Kerr Avon came and shot them dead in the balmy night.

 

* * *

Blake: a Lament, in the style of William McGonagall, Poet and Tragedian Page 2

Proud Scorpio had crashed, alas, upon the forest verdant  
While treach'rous gunrunners roamed the skies, their hopes of gain still fervent  
All the while, the brave Del Tarrant lay, a-weltering in his gore  
That fickle jade Dame Fortune laid him low, but not one oath he swore.

Then Blake drew near the dauntless man, his parlous state to' espy   
And took him to his base forthwith without any more delay.  
Kerr Avon and his friends pursued them close, I do declare  
As their flyer descended into the fateful silo, their hearts did ne'er despair.

 

* * *

Inside the base, the distrustful Blake did test the 'intrepid Tarrant  
Who knocked his gun from out his hand then ran away defiant  
Unto the gallery where, I venture to say, he made a fateful blunder,   
And fell upon the confounded Klyn, because he didn't know Blake was not a real bounty hunter. 

When the rebels came in and found the pilot, exceeding great was their joy  
Then when Klyn gave the alarm, Avon shot her, for she did him annoy.  
But now with solemn voice a sorry tale I must relate at last,   
Which will cause many people to moisten their eyes and feel downcast.

Weepst thou with me! For now comes Blake upon this sorry day  
To find his friend all pale and gaunt who with a glittering eye   
Addresses him with these sorrowful words, "oh didst thou me betray?"  
He answers "Avon, I was waiting for you," but his words they gang agley.

Alas! The burly rebel with these words doth seal his doom.   
Kerr Avon shoots him once, twice, thrice, his face is full of gloom.   
Oh Blake! Thy chest is bloody, thou liest upon the floor  
Thy Cause was just, but now you're dead, never to rise any more.

And now my tale is almost done, for the base Arlen proves an officer.  
Vila strikes her down, but 'tis in vain, for she brought Federation troopers with her.  
One by one the rebels fall, I ween, all but the unhappy Avon  
Who now bestrides Blake's body, and on whose face a ghastly smile is graven.

Oh goodly rebel band, thy untimely end did sore distress many a fan  
And the grievous sight made us curse the day the Federation was born.  
But your deeds will live on in our hearts, let no man impune   
And they are now at peace in Heaven above, which we think a very great boon.


End file.
